


Haunted By Your Past...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e09 Home, Fear, Intense Emotional Fear, Loss, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tears, Wincest - Freeform, painful memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:29:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: The boys go home, finding something they never would have expected.Episode 9 as seen through Wincest colored glasses.





	Haunted By Your Past...

**Author's Note:**

> Beware, true to canon, lots of fear and pain are ahead, exacerbated by my need to examine every facial expression and tear that pours out of our boys. 
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so please point out any problems that need to be addressed.

Dean couldn’t remember a time when he was as scared as he felt at this very moment.  Driving back into the state of Kansas, the closer they got to the home where their mom died, the harder it was for Dean to hide the shaking that was wracking his whole body.  He felt his entire life had been turned upside down, in the hours since Sam had dropped a double helping of new surprising information on him. 

Dean had been sitting innocently in a rundown motel room, trying to find a new case, drinking an all too mediocre cup of coffee, when Sam suddenly reveals he has been not only having nightmares about what happened to Jess, but some of those dreams were actually premonitions of some kind.  His brother has the freaking shining going on and had failed to tell him about it.

That bullshit right there would have been bad enough to ruin his day.  But then his bitch of a brother goes and tells him that they have to go home, their original home, where their family started, way back to their old house in Lawrence, Kansas.

He hadn’t known whether to laugh in Sam’s face, or fall to the floor crying.  Since that moment he had been almost hysterical with dread, at the thought of going home again.  It had been twenty two years since the night of the fire and he didn’t want to go back.  He would rather go the rest of his life without burgers or pie than to step foot back in that city, let alone their old house. 

But Sam was right, if people’s lives were on the line, especially if the cause was whatever killed their mom and Jessica, then they had to do this.  That was why they were getting closer and closer to the place of his earliest nightmares.

When the ‘Lawrence 3 miles’ sign came into view on the side of the road, Dean had to fight himself not to turn the car around and go back the way they had come, anywhere, away from where they were headed.

Sam sat quietly on his side of the car.  He had been petrified for so long of his brother finding out about his “special dreams.”  He had already felt like such a freak his whole life growing up, as it was, he really hadn’t wanted to take the chance that Dean would turn on him because he was, yet again, somehow even more different.

He couldn’t believe how well Dean had accepted all this.  He had hoped somehow, stupidly, that if he kept it to himself, maybe it would just go away.  But now it felt all connected, to the reason his dad had vanished, to Jess’s death, and all the way back to their mom’s loss as well.  Somehow it felt like there was a real possibility maybe it all was coming together, maybe by going back home they could end this nightmare once and for all.

As they pulled up in front of the house, Sam could see fear plastered across Dean’s face.  He had never really seen this side of Dean before, and it shook him.

As soon as Jenny, the new owner of the house answered the door, Sam knew he couldn’t stick to the script they had devised to get into the house.  He went instead with the truth, at least an abridged version of it, and to Dean’s surprise, it worked.

Jenny let them in, even saying she thought she had found some of their old pictures.  She took them into the kitchen to introduce them to her kids, but then she began to explain things that had been going wrong with the house.  The brothers gave each other a knowing look, her descriptions all sounded like some kind of malevolent spirit activity.  But when the daughter, Sari, described the image of a figure on fire in her closet, that sealed the deal for both men. 

Something was indeed very wrong here, and it definitely sounded like it was related somehow to what had happened to their family all those years ago.  Sam bought into it immediately, but because Dean was still so very freaked out, by being back in that house, he became defensive. 

Dean turned his fear into anger, lashing out saying “I’m just freaked out your weirdo visions are coming true.”

Sam defensively told him to forget about that, and just focus on what was happening in the house, asking Dean if he thought it could be the thing that killed their Mom and Jessica.

Dean angrily said “I don’t know.” 

Dean’s defiance was causing Sam’s panic level to rise.  He felt that he could have saved Jess if he had admitted his dreams before.  The responsibility of saving this family, from having what happened to their own family, or maybe worse, occur, it was weighing so heavily on him.  He voice began rising to the tone of hysteria about needing to get Jenny and her family out of the house. 

Dean drove his little brother away from that house, from the entire damned neighborhood, just so that he could catch his breath.  He pulled into a gas station and Sam was still going on and on about how they needed to get those people out right now. 

Dean finally said in exasperation, “We just got to chill out, that’s all.” 

He took a deep steadying breath.  Watching Sam freak out, when he himself already felt like his heart was going to fly out of his chest, it was too much.  The worry was plain on Sam’s face and it felt like it was pouring acid all over Dean’s skin, making his own fear even worse.

He had to get Sam calmed down.  He had never seen his little brother so worked up about saving other people. 

Dean thought about it while he focused on pumping gas into Baby.  It was a benign activity that required no thought.  He breathed deeply, watching his brother fret against the passenger side door, out of the corner of his eye. 

Focusing on Sam, that was something he was good at.  He had to find a way to get Sam to stop ramping up his own panic.

His brother was good at puzzles, the best at it actually, so give him something to think about. 

Dean chewed his lip for a minute, listening to the gas as it flowed into the tank, then asked “If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

Sam blew out a shaky breath and looked around, calming for the first time since exiting their old house. 

He took a couple more calming breaths and answered, “We’d try to figure out what we were dealing with.”

He continued to explain how they would try to find out the history of the house, but Dean countered with the fact that this time they already knew.  Sam thought about it for a second and then realized that they really didn’t know that much about what actually did happen there.  They had been too young.  Himself especially, he had no memory of any of it since he had only been an infant.  But Dean, he might have memories, he never talked about it, and Sam hated to put him through this, but in actuality, Dean was just like any other witness, and Sam needed to find out what he knew. 

He walked back to where Dean was standing at the trunk of the car and sat next to him, asking “How much do you actually remember?”

Dean didn’t look at him as he explained what he remembered about the fire.  Sam watched his brother’s expressive face, looking pained to be delving back into these memories, but determined as always to work the case.

His dark emerald eyes, looked off in the distance, not focusing on anything as he described what he could of that night.  He swallowed hard before saying “Then I carried you out the front door.”

Sam’s heart dropped into his stomach.  He looked up at his older brother in shock as he asked softly, “You did?”

Dean turned to him then, in confusion, and replied, “Yeah, well, you never knew that?”

Sam’s voice was quiet when he responded, “No.” 

His face was so open and vulnerable, his hazel eyes searching Dean’s face, for any clues of more information, while his mind tried to picture Dean running out of the burning house with him in his four year old arms.

Dean couldn’t keep eye contact, his brother’s raw emotions were too much for him. So he looked down at the car, off in the distance, anywhere else except the beautiful face of the man he had been caring for, in one way or another, for nearly their entire lives.

Dean finished his tale by describing John’s story again, even though he knew Sam had the same information he did from that source.  He ended by saying that if John had known anything at all about what killed her, or even had a theory, he kept it to himself. 

The brothers decided that if they were going to solve what was happening now, and save this family, they had to figure out what happened back then to their family.  To do that they agreed to talk to neighbors, friends, anyone who was around back when it all first happened, just like they would in any case they were working.

Dean walked away towards the back of the station, feigning needing to go to the bathroom.  At the far end of the building, out of earshot of Sam, Dean tried his dad’s cell number.  He had no hope his father would actually pick up, but he thought if he left a message, explaining what was happening in their old house, that it could be related to their Mom’s death , then maybe John would actually come through for them.

He thought he could hold it together.  He tried desperately to keep his voice normal, but the fear he had been trying to hold back all day finally overwhelmed him.  Having to relive what had happened that night, was just too hard and he was so scared.  He needed his dad. 

His voice broke as he said into the phone, “I don’t know what to do.”

His throat got thick from the tears he was fighting back, as he pleaded, “So whatever you’re doing, if you could get here.”

He drew in a ragged breath, tears welling in his eyes, “Please? I need your help dad.”

He slammed the phone closed, berating himself for being so damned weak.

He quickly wiped his face and tried to get himself composed before going back around to where Sam was waiting for him, already seated in Baby ready to go.

Their first stop was to the mechanic that had once co-owned a garage with their dad.  He didn’t have much new information for them, other than John had gone to a palm reader about their mom’s death, back before leaving Lawrence.  They hunted down Missouri Moseley, after Dean put the name together from the listing in the phone book and notes in John’s journal.

She informed the boys that she had helped John all those years ago by explaining to him all the things that were truly out there.  The kinds of things the boys now hunted.  She told them that she had gone to the house but could only pick up that whatever had killed their mom had been pure evil.  She didn’t know what it actually was, nor where their father was right now.

She told them she had been keeping an eye on the house all these years and that it had been quiet up until now.  Sam explained to her that he thought all these things happening at once, John’s disappearance, Jess’s death, and whatever was going on at their old house, was maybe the start of something.

His theory convinced her to help the boys by going to see what she might feel inside the house itself. 

Jenny balked at allowing the group entrance to the home again, until Missouri nicely confronted her about what had been going on, telling her they might be able to help if she would let them.

When they walked into Sari’s bedroom, Missouri explained that if there was a center to what was going on in the house it was probably located there, revealing that it used to be Sam’s old nursery. 

A chill ran up Sam’s spine.  Both brothers looked up at the ceiling in growing horror.  She continued looking around and then told them that this energy wasn’t the thing that had killed their mom, but there was in fact more than one spirit in the house now.  She said that a poltergeist was drawn here because of the evil that had been left behind by what had killed their mom.  And that it wouldn’t rest until it kills Jenny and her family. 

She couldn’t figure out anything about the second spirit.

Dean was tired of feeling scared.  He looked over at Sam and saw that his face was pale and his breath was shaky.  The part of Dean that had been Sam’s protector for the first eighteen years of his life kicked in.  He used all that fear and turned it into anger. 

He said sternly, “Well, one thing’s for damn sure, nobody’s dying in this house ever again.”

They went back to Missouri’s place to gather supplies to purify the house completely once and for all.  And then back to their old home, sending Jenny and her family away so that they could do the work of embedding the cleansing bags in the four corners of the house on each floor.  Missouri took the basement, Dean took the main level and Sam took the upstairs.  She had warned the boys that they had to be quick, because once the spirit figured out what they were up to, it would fight back.

Dean had barely finished dropping his last bag of herbs in the hole he had knocked in the kitchen wall, when the spirit tried to kill him with an entire drawer full of knives.  His quick reflexes allowed him to flip the kitchen table on end just in time to save his own life.  He didn’t take even a moment to regroup before bounding up the stairs two at a time.  If the spirit was tired of playing with him, he had to get to Sam.  He had finally gotten his little brother back in his life, he wasn’t about to let some angry poltergeist take him away now.

He rounded the corner of the hall and saw through the open bedroom door, his worst nightmare come alive.  Sam was lying on his back almost unconscious with an electrical cord choking the life out of him.  Dean desperately tried to remove the cord, but it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard his adrenaline fueled hands tried to force it.

Sam’s last bag lay abandoned near his side.  Dean grabbed it, angrily kicking a hole in the wall with his boot, shoving the bag into it, as a desperate act of hope to save his brother’s life.

Dean fell huddling against the wall as the room exploded in a blindingly bright blue surge of energy. Sam wheezed grabbing his neck and Dean lunged for him, freeing his neck from the cord, before clutching Sam tightly against him in relief.  His love for Sam ached deep within his chest, with each breath Sam drew against him.

He held him longer than he should have, not wanting to let go.  Sam didn’t seem to mind, he rested his head against Dean’s shoulder, clutching his big brother tightly.  They only broke apart when they heard Missouri calling to them from the stairs.

Even after Missouri assured the brothers and Jenny’s that the house was now clean, Sam wasn’t so sure.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still terribly wrong there.  Luckily he didn’t have to do much convincing for Dean to trust him, parking Baby across the street so they could keep an eye on the house that night. 

To be honest, Sam was surprised that Dean just went along with it. Sure he did his fair share of complaining about being stuck in the car instead of asleep in a nice bed, when the house seemed safe and quiet. But he was there, not fighting Sam or refusing to support his bad feeling, the way Sam had been afraid he would.

It was only moments after they had settled in to wait, that Sam saw Jenny, banging hard against the upstairs window, exactly as she had appeared in his dreams. The brothers rushed into the house, Dean yelling for Sam to get the kids while he went for Jenny.

Dean got to his target first, and led Jenny safely back outside, expecting Sam to follow momentarily.  But he watched in horror as Sari came running from the house, with her little brother in tow, no sign of Sam anywhere.  His heart stopped beating as Sari said “He’s inside, something got him.”

The door to the house slammed shut of its own volition causing Dean to run straight for the Impala.  He grabbed an ax, a shotgun and the shells filled with rock salt.  As he ran towards the house, his heart restarted but galloped at a pace that felt like it would crack his chest wide open. 

Fear, unlike any Dean had felt, since being on this exact spot, twenty two years ago, once again filled every part of his body. Only instead of having his brother in his arms, running from the house, he was frantically heading back towards the house of his nightmares, to save the one person he knew he could never live without.

The door wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he kicked. So he took the ax and began demolishing it.  As soon as he had a view into the house he began yelling Sam’s name.  Repeating it wildly, as he searched through the house, once he squeezed through the hole he busted in the door.

Sam’s body ached everywhere from being violently thrown around, and then pinned solidly to the wall in the kitchen, by an invisible malevolent entity.  He couldn’t break free no matter how hard he tried to move.  He watched in helpless terror as a figure, enveloped completely by fire, walked slowly towards him from the other room.

Dean finally found his brother, but had no time to feel relief, as the fiery figure came into his view as well.  He placed his body in front of Sam’s and raised the shotgun.  Before he could get a shot off though, Sam called to him telling him not to shoot, telling him that he realized who the figure was.

Dean looked on in confusion as the flames subsided, finally dropping away completely leaving a woman, whole and unburned standing before them in a white nightgown.  It was the same gown she had worn the last night she had ever tucked Dean into bed.

The shotgun began to shake nervously in his hand.  The arm holding his gun dropped to his side mindlessly, tears gathering in his eyes as he mournfully asked, “Mom?”

He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, as she walked towards him, with a small smile on her face, saying only his name as she walked by. His disbelieving eyes followed her as she went past him towards Sam, saying his brother’s name in the same loving tone.

Sam looked at her, seeing his mom for the first time that he could remember, his eyes filling with tears, as she said, “I’m sorry.”

His forehead furrowed in confusion, the tears beginning to fall, his lips quivering as he asked quietly, “For what?”

The brothers watched in shocked awe as Mary turned from them and walked to the middle of the kitchen, speaking threateningly while looking up at the ceiling, “You get out of my house, and let go of my son.”

Flames erupted all along the foot of her gown.  They quickly engulfed her body once more, before the entire fiery image launched itself towards the ceiling and disappeared.

Gasping from the sudden loss of force pushing against him, Sam was finally able to stand of his own volition, free from whatever had been holding him against the wall.

Dean’s eyes searched the room, calling out, “Mom.”

Still trying to catch his breath, Sam felt an emptiness in the house, realizing its significance, he whispered to his brother, “Now, it’s over.”

Sadness filled both of their hearts, from the loss of a mother that neither had ever really known.  Old scarred over wounds were ripped open, fresh pain overwhelming both men.  Tears poured down both of their faces, but neither said a word to the other as they walked out of the house.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, not much Wincesty goodness to be had in this one I am afraid. It is there, in glimpses and whispers, but this one was pure Winchester pain at its finest, all on its own without much need for the Wincest aspect.
> 
> I hope you don't mind the lack of longing and desire in this work. I just felt it was more important to focus on the raw emotions going on separately from the Wincest aspect in this one except in the few places that it felt appropriate to do so.
> 
> Hopefully it was still easy enough to feel that the Wincest connection was there, just mostly hidden underneath all the heavy crap they had to carry on this case.
> 
> I hope this was still enjoyable even without much representation of the reason we are all here this time.
> 
> Rest assured the dark desires will come roaring back in full force in no time.


End file.
